Whilst being in the depths of my depression and feeling the pain from Fibromyalgia, I’ve had no means of real escape, or anyone to whom I could really talk to, or even understand a part of what I was going through. I have been very much alone with my illnesses mentally, physically and emotionally, and writing this blog is part of my healing process.
Writing this is so important for me, and I hope by doing so, some readers may identify with what I have to say. Sx ☺

Friday, 9 September 2011

Retracing my steps

After that realisation hit home, it made me look at my career to date. I was always after self-betterment, I had always wanted a ladder to climb to achieve things. But, I now know all my employers had seen that trait in me, and wanted to make the most of me, while they had me. I spent 10 years of my life travelling the length and breadth of this country, doing store openings for B&Q & MFI to name a couple of companys. Each time, staying away from home for months at a time, until a job was completed and we could finally return home or go onto the next job. It was not an easy job by any means, it was 12 hours a day or night, seven days a week; living in some hotel or B&B.

By this time, I was no longer doing the ground work, I was managing a
team of up to 35 people, I was responsible for making sure that the job
was done well and done right on which ever shift I was working on. I
and my colleague who covered the other shift, were accountable if things
went wrong. After that, I began to run the jobs, organising my teams,
sorting transport and accommodation, interviewing & recruiting new
staff, dealing direct with the clients, and still travelling to do site
visits, which was always rife with some complaint or other, which I had
to deal with. When I was not in the office, I would be in my car, it became a lonely job.

With a team of core people, plus locally employed general assistants, we worked hard and played hard. I used to say that it took a strange breed of fish to do the job, either people were running away from something; or they were trying to find something. I am not sure which category I fell into, but eventually the need arose for me to find a permanent place, where I could finally hang my hat, and empty my suitcase.

This coincided with the death of my brother, who had been very ill for years. It was at that point, that I knew that I had to move on. I had always said to myself, that by the age of 30, I wanted my first home, and real independence, and a few days short of my 30th birthday, I finally managed it.